


Trickle Down

by tjmystic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle accidentally catches Mr. Gold in the shower</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trickle Down

Trickle Down  
anonymous prompt - she catches him in the shower (based on this pic)

Rating: V for voyeurism; or R, if you want to be boring ;)

Summary: … yeah, I don’t know what in the heck this is. I started off trying to write fluffy smut, and I got… whatever this is, instead. I even feel like the characterization went completely wrong - this isn’t how I write either of these characters normally, and it seems like they’re too OOC to bear. So feel free to tell me if this sucks - I know that I did this one all wrong and I’d love to know how to make it right :S

 

Running water awoke Belle from her deep sleep. It was an odd noise, too intense to be coming from outside like rain and yet too muted to suggest that it was in the room with her. That, at least, came as a relief – it meant that she hadn’t been dreaming about that strange orderly freeing her from her dripping cell. That she hadn’t been dreaming about reuniting with Rumplestiltskin.

Her eyes flashed open at that. It took a moment for them to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, she saw the same vision she’d fallen asleep to – rosy walls, an ornate wooden headboard, and a soft, warm bed. She smiled and snuggled in deeper, enjoying every second of a sheet that covered her whole body and a mattress that didn’t bruise her when she stretched.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she sighed, reaching for him at the other side of the bed. But her search came back empty. Belle blinked, looking curiously at the right side of the bed – she knew that he was a slight man, but not so slight as to take up less than an inch of the bed. Sure enough, she’d been right – he simply wasn’t there.

A chill raced down her spine. Whatever he might believe to the contrary, she had faith that he hadn’t left her for any sordid reason, that he hadn’t abandoned her in the night to try and wreak his revenge on Regina again. But that didn’t mean she wanted to be alone. It was the one selfish thing she expected from her first night of being with him again. She never would have pleaded with him to sleep in the same bed as her otherwise.

It almost hurt to leave the comfort of their bed, but Belle swung her legs out all the same – she could hardly look for him laying down. Her feet landed on something even softer than the carpet, and she blinked confusedly as she took a tentative step away – slippers. A small grin touched the corners of her mouth – he’d left her slippers. And a robe, too, if the satin sheet hanging by the lamp on her side of the bed was anything to go by. She hugged herself tight as she slipped both of her new clothes on – she’d never known that such a simple action from him could make her feel so loved. It was almost more than the library he’d gifted her with in his castle.

The water gave another strange whir, completely knocking Belle out of her reverie. Curious, she pressed her ear to the wall and focused. She’d been right, it seemed, in thinking that the water was in the walls. Though it was hardly her biggest concern, she quickly filed the information away so she could ask Rumplestiltskin about it later – worried or not, curiosity would always be her greatest flaw. But then the noise gave a sudden spurt, pulling away from her and rushing into the hallway outside, and she was concentrated once more.

Belle drew her robe closer and opened the bedroom door, ears intent on finding out where the water was coming from. She was grateful when a look to the right instantly yielded the sight of an open door with steam billowing out – it seemed she wouldn’t be up all night looking after all. 

She didn’t call out his name, not wanting to interrupt him if he was working on something. She was sure – and the very thought made her smile – that he wouldn’t react as harshly as he had when she’d bothered him in his tower while he was making potions, but she still didn’t want to be rude. Her walk earlier had given her time to realize that they wouldn’t have an immediately perfect relationship, regardless of the fact that he’d obviously missed her as much as she’d missed him. But still, just as with the water, she couldn’t resist being a little curious. She took a deep breath, and peaked in. 

And her hand flew to her mouth immediately to stifle her gasp.

He was naked. Completely, utterly naked. No shirt, no trousers, no shoes – nothing. Even the cane that she was still trying to get used to was missing. His eyes were closed, his head flung back as he stood under a stream of water, pouring mysteriously from some strange metal faucet in the ceiling. But, for once, Belle’s curiosity had left her. All she could look at was his body. And all she could focus on was the sudden rush of heat that filled her when he moved. 

He’d always been so quick in their old world, so flamboyant and childlike in his gestures. Alone under the water, though, he shifted slowly and methodically. Belle watched transfixed as he poured some sort of liquid from a bottle into his hand and lifted it to his hair, massaging it through the long strands until bubbles turned it more white than brown. Her fingers itched to touch it, different as it was from the crimped strands she was so used to, but she remained still all the same. 

Her eyes scanned down the length of his body, taking in his strong arms, lean chest, and thick thighs. He was turned to the side, half invisible due to the steam fogging up the glass wall between him and her, but she had an excellent imagination, and she could easily fill in what reality had left out.

At least, she thought she could. The moment his hand fell from his hair to grip at the skin between his thighs, though, completely knocked that thought out of the water. 

Belle settled to her knees, feeling like a foolish girl for going weak at the sight of his body, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never seen a man before, much less the man she loved, and, though she knew in theory what… things, were supposed to look like, it hardly fit reality. For one, the wrinkled sac of flesh at the back was much longer than she’d thought it would be, hanging almost to mid-thigh and slapping against them every time he stroked himself. As she watched, they drew in closer to his body, seeming to grow harder and tauter with every passing second, but they still looked heavier than she’d thought they would. And – in the moments when he released himself to put more of that strange liquid soap in his palm – she could tell that his cock did much the same. Her lips pursed as his fingers massaged the thick tip, whiter than the rest of him and too broad to look anything but out-of-place. His fingertips didn’t linger, though, pressing down tight around the shaft itself inbetween strokes to the head, pumping himself slowly to the beat of the water on his skin. Belle blushed – he wasn’t just bathing himself. He was pleasuring himself.

She felt wanton, ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop herself from rocking down on her heal and moaning. He looked so beautiful.

“Belle…”

She very nearly hit her head on the doorknob in her haste to stand up. She held up her hands, opened her mouth to apologize, but, when the embarrassment finally left and her vision cleared, she was surprised to see that he wasn’t looking at her. Indeed, he didn’t seem to notice she was there at all – he’d collapsed boneless onto a ledge on the side of his granite tub, and the strokes to his flesh were coming even harder. Her eyes went wide as saucers – he was thinking about her while he touched.

A part of her felt small and weak; rather than ask her to touch him, ask if he could touch her, he preferred the solace of a warm shower. But all it took was a more careful look at his face to wipe that fear away – even with his own hand wrapped around him, he looked lonely and needy and desperate.

Belle covered her mouth tighter to keep him from hearing her sigh. She wanted, more than anything, to shed her nightgown and slippers and join him under the torrent of water. Virginal she might be, but naïve she was not – she knew what he was thinking of. And the fact that he was thinking of doing it with her…

She pressed her thighs tight together to relieve some of the pressure that had built up there. However much she wanted to, and however much he obviously did, too, it would be foolish beyond belief to give in so soon. She was still shy, still confused about her body’s feelings, and too lost to give him much to a good time. But, more importantly, he was scared. Belle knew that he’d make love to her without hesitation if she so much as suggested that that was what she wanted from him, but she knew all the same that he’d feel terrible about it the next morning. Somehow, he’d twist himself into thinking that he’d coerced her, perhaps even forced her, and use that as proof that he wasn’t good enough for them to go on. And for him to have those doubts would break both of their hearts. They were too new, too broken, to allow for that much risk just yet. Maybe they’d never be whole enough for it to be totally without risk. But she knew that she wasn’t going to risk it. He meant too much to her, and she knew that she meant too much to him, to let their physical needs get to them. 

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Belle… love you,” he whimpered in his stall, pulsing harder and faster into his fist to the sound of her name on his lips. She yanked herself away from the door just as he spurted thick, ropy strands all over the wall and shuddered into himself – that image alone would be enough to give her pleasant dreams for the rest of her life. And, besides that, he would come back to bed now that he was done, and the last thing she wanted to do was shame him for being caught.

Quietly as she could, she raced back to their room, shucked off her robe, and placed her slippers on the floor where she’d found them. Hands shaking, she smoothed out his side of the bed, hoping he wouldn’t notice the obvious wrinkled where she’d turned back his covers, and fluffed up the pillows so he’d be more comfortable. She’d been hoping to at least be under the sheets when he came back, but, much to her surprise, she’d only just sat down on her side when he came back in.

His eyes – and she still hadn’t gotten used to how brown they were, not the bronze she’d grown so fond of staring into – washed over her, concern filling every line from his temples to his chin. He reached out a hand as if he wanted to touch her, but, ultimately, pulled it back to straighten the buttons on the top of his pajama shirt.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed drowsily, “why aren’t you asleep?”

A hundred answers raced through her mind, all half-formed and none of them good enough for her master of words. That, and she refused to lie to him – it was unfair of her to demand it of him and not return the favor. 

Eventually, the right idea finally fluttered into her head, and she propped herself up slowly so as not to spook him. She smiled softly, heart and arms both held wide open just for him. His own smile was much warier, tremulous and small as if he didn’t want to risk being happy, but she took it as the victory it was when he stepped in and embraced her, too.

Belle pushed back his wet hair, and pressed a slow, warm kiss to his forehead as he held her. “I couldn’t get to sleep without you,” she whispered.

She felt his breath catch in his throat more than she heard it, just as she knew that his eyes were watery and amazed without having to see them. She didn’t have to – all she needed were his arms around her. 

Careful as could be, he climbed in behind her and scooped them so that every inch of his body cradled hers. The flesh between his thighs was once again soft, pressed flush against the curve of her own legs, but she could feel it all the same, and it made her smile with wicked delight. The smile only grew when he leaned over to press a full kiss to her lips and mutter into her mouth,

“I couldn’t sleep without you either, Belle.” 

Belle snuggled tight and pulled his arm over her, lacing their fingers together and giggling tiredly when he breathed into her neck. She fell into an even deeper sleep than before in his arms, cuddled close and knowing without a doubt that she was loved.


End file.
